


Hunting Stoned Probably isn't Gonna be a Good Hunt

by laristar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, i might make this like an actual episode where u gotta be stoned af to see the ghost but idk yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laristar/pseuds/laristar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>team free will needs to be high af to see the monsters.  thats it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting Stoned Probably isn't Gonna be a Good Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> so idk i might add more i might not tell me whatchu think!!

Dean smokes. He fills his lungs with tobacco and, more frequently, marijuana. Sam smokes, too, but only the latter, and less often. Although, they smoke separately, hardly ever together. Seldom in the Impala. Never with an angel of the lord. But tonight is different, today has been long and the road is a seemingly endless trail of dirt and trees and abandoned back roads towards home so they decided on the nearest Bed and Breakfast in the nearest backroad town. Dean is tired and bruises are blossoming under his skin from his fist fight with a bunch of stray vamps, but he's determined to make it to at least a bed before he shuts his lights out and falls to sleep. He grits his teeth, grips tightly at the steering wheel with one hand and gestures towards the glove box with his other.

“Hey, y'wanna roll one up?” He mumbles.

“What?” Sam's reaching towards the glove box already, his tone fluctuating between disbelief and excitement. “In the car?”

Castiel's ears perk at the sound of rustling. He faintly listens to the conversation now as his eyes flutter and remain on Sam's working hands. They produce a small, rectangular pad-like box, from which Sam tears out a small paper.

“Yeah,” Dean says, rubbing his fingers over his eyes as he pinches his nose generously, his cold hands relieving the tension and heat from his cheeks. “Just fallin' asleep over here is all.”

“Won't this just make you more tired?” Sam jeers, his eyes sweeping from his preparation to Dean.

“Yeah. No, not for a while.”

“What won't make you tired for a while?” Cas chirps curiously, leaning closer to the front seat to peer over Sam's shoulder.

“Weed. Or, Marijuana,” Sam answers mindlessly as he rolls the materials between his thumbs and forefingers.

“Oh.”

“And it doesn't really make me tired,” Dean blurts, his eyes darting to the rear view mirror to try and catch the angel's eyes. “It makes me... Happy,” he grins, “and kinda horny.”

"Yeah," Sam snorts, his lips tugging into a shit-eating grin. “Really horny.”

“Shut up,” Dean throws a sarcastic glare to his brother before returning his eyes to the road.

There's a soft hum radiating from the stereo, the pseudo-silence hanging awkwardly in the air among them until Dean pipes back up. “Want in? It's fun.” 

“Um..” Cas squints and rests his forehead against the top of the front seat, thought buzzing in his skull. “Sure. Yes.” He gives a nod and smiles, sitting back to attention. Sam strikes a lighter to life and lights the end, taking the first drag.

“Wait, can angels even get high?” Dean snarks, plucking the joint from Sam's offering fingers. He takes a long drag as the angel nods in his peripheral.

“I mean, he can get drunk,” Sam comments, cracking his window ajar. “Why wouldn't he be able to get high?”

“I have been intoxicated by means of varying drugs before, yes,” Castiel nods, staring blankly at the joint presented to him. He seems almost nostalgic as he takes it from Dean.

“What? Really?” Dean's upper body jerks a little as he turns to glance at Cas. “When?”

“A long time ago,” the angel assures. “It was with, um... Balthazar.” He takes a hit, a small one at first, then takes a second after the smoke wisps past his lips. The second one is deeper, the red tip burning brightly for a a few seconds longer than average. His lungs fill to the brim before collapsing with exhale, smoke fogging the car as it pools from his nostrils and mouth.

They're quiet as Sam takes his hit.

“Balthazar was a dick,” Dean says before he takes his.

“Yes. He was.” Cas smiles fondly. He takes a smaller, average hit this time. “But very adamant about bending the rules.”

“I thought you started rebellion?” 

“Improvising is significantly different from tearing apart the script, Dean,” Cas grins to himself again. He's not sure why, but he can't stop smiling now. Not even as he props his chin up on the front seat of the Impala, his head canted slightly so he can stare dreamily at Dean. Sam rolls his eyes when he notices, but takes his hit wordlessly, a faint smile lingering on his lips as he listens to his brother and the angel.

Dean sucks the joint down to his fingertips. Handing the roach to Sam, he pulls into a parking lot. 

“Bate's Motel?” Sam ducks closer to the dashboard so he can squint at the motel sign through the windshield, the red letters buzzing sheepishly over their reflections. “Isn't that the name of a show?”

“Maybe we'll bump into a ghost,” Dean suggests with a faint snicker as he pulls into a parallel pair of white lines, straddling the fence between excitement and annoyance at the thought of another hunt. “Bring that shit inside,” he adds, nodding towards the small box of illegality.

~

Two joints and a bowl pack of roaches later, Team Free Will is buzzing and floating lazily about their room, yearning for fast food at two in the morning. Sam and Dean debate briefly on who should drive to the nearest Biggerson's for burgers before they settled on a game of rock-paper-scissors. It's the first time in a long time that Dean beats Sam, and the younger huffs irritably.

“Can I at least take Cas?” He drones, standing in the doorway, the doorknob resting under his palm.

“He's not a dog, Sam.” The older hunter folds his arms over his chest defiantly, cocking his head as he scoffs. “You can't just 'take Cas' out on a ride.” He grins sardonically as he leans his hip into the table, pointing a wicked grin to the angel who is too high to notice anything outside of his hunter's exaggeratedly changing expressions, awestruck by the older Winchester's ability to go through so many expressions in one minute.

Sam narrows his eyes at his brother. “If you were the one going, you'd get to bring Cas.”

Dean purses his lips and searches the ceiling for thought. When his eyes fall back on Sam, he shrugs. “You can't prove that.”

Sam stammers then sighs, ducking out the door with a foul gesture. When the door slams behind him, Dean turns on his heels excitedly, his arms hanging out at his sides. He grins toothily at the angel, whose own lips are pulled back into a sheepish mirror of Dean's expression. 

“So, y'wanna have sloppy make outs?” He saunters towards the angel, arms still splayed at his sides.

Castiel answers wordlessly as he pulls Dean into a kiss. The hunter meets him half way, hands coming up to the angel's neck so rough, calloused fingertips can press into his skin lazily as their tongues wrestle between parted lips.

**Author's Note:**

> validate me!!!!! should i really make a ghost u can only see high? idk!! it would be fun tho........ tell me what you think? c:


End file.
